


Beat the Drum Slowly

by TheShortestManOnEarth



Series: Glimmadora Week 3.0 2020 [5]
Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Day 5: Period Piece, F/F, Glimadora Week 2020, Glimadora Week 3.0 2020, Lyrics based story, Not quite romance but bittersweet, References to Green Fields of France song
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:21:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27973645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheShortestManOnEarth/pseuds/TheShortestManOnEarth
Summary: Glimmadora Week 3 Day 5: Period PieceGlimmer visits the Cemetery where her father is buried, unsure of how she should feel about someone she barely knew. Then she sees the grave of someone who has been lost to the ages. Over the course of the afternoon she imagines who this woman was, what her life could have been and reflects on what it truly means to be lost.See notes for more information.
Relationships: Adora & Glimmer (She-Ra), Adora/Glimmer (She-Ra), Glimmer & Micah (She-Ra)
Series: Glimmadora Week 3.0 2020 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2040798
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	Beat the Drum Slowly

**Author's Note:**

> Hey All,
> 
> I was kinda lost with this prompt. I didn't know what to do for it so I went with another lyrics based story. I decided to use some of the lyrics as dialogue and some as part of the narrative (same as prompt 3). The song is "Green Fields of France" by Dropkick Murphys (there are other versions, but I liked this one the most). I recommend listening to it (it's on Spotify) as you read this. 
> 
> CW: Mentions of war. There's nothing graphic here, but I'm including this just in case. 
> 
> The song takes place in the present, but the song the narrator sings is about a soldier who died in World War I. I based my story around the soldier in the story (swapping it with Adora). It's not my best idea but I thought the idea of Adora and Glimmer not quite meeting directly but thinking of the same things was a fun concept. Obviously I took a lot of liberties with this story in terms of making it a bit more gay. 
> 
> So I hope you like it. Again, I didn't know what else to do for a period piece. I'm working on art for prompt 3 and I'll have those up shortly. Prompts 6 and 7 are also in the works. 7 will have art to it, but it's stuff I already did as part of my college projects (I'm excited to share it). 
> 
> Let me know what you think!

It wasn’t often that Glimmer found moments to get away from the watchful eyes of her mother. She had learned long ago that if she wanted time to herself, she had to take it when she could, permission or no permission. As far as she was concerned, no one wouldn’t miss her for an afternoon. She enjoyed the chance to walk across the fields and visit her father in Authuille Cemetery. 

Before heading out she wrote out a quick note and left it on the table for her mother. While Glimmer wanted her freedom, she didn’t want to needlessly worry her mother. The older woman had seen her fair share of strife and while Glimmer wasn’t sure she understood it, she didn’t question it either. Her father had died many years before Glimmer had been old enough to even remember him. His face may as well have been a stranger’s. 

Still, she liked to visit and talk with him. She kept coming back for something she wasn’t sure she’d find written in the unchanging fading stone that served as her father’s last statement to the living. She walked along the rows of crosses as she had so many times before. This time she paused before reaching her father’s spot. 

A stone stood out to her. It was older than the rest, almost too dirty and chipping at the corners. It hadn’t been visited in years; that she could tell. Some part of her ached for whoever was buried there. The Cemetery was the final resting place for many soldiers who had fallen, some unknown in their final moments and lost to the ages. Glimmer set down her basket she’d packed for the day and took a cloth from inside to wipe the stone clean. 

When she finished wiping away the dirt and dust, she found herself staring curiously at the inscription: _Private Adora Williams. 1897-1916._ Who was she? By the dates Glimmer could tell Adora had only been nineteen when she was killed. 

“Do you mind if I join you?” Glimmer said, not sure why she was asking at all. She set out her blanket. She laid back. “Who were you?” The dark-haired woman closed her eyes and tried to imagine what Adora Williams might have looked like. “Did you leave a wife or a sweetheart behind?” Glimmer wanted to think, to hope, that this girl, whoever she was, had someone who loved her. But whoever that was, that poor soul never got to see Adora past her prime or to grow old. 

_No_ , Glimmer shook her head. In her mind she had a flash of an image of a faded leather frame around her photo that was aging and fading along with her gravestone to memories. The beautiful face of the blonde girl filled Glimmer’s mind. She charged through No Man’s Land, heedless of the battles that would continue to rage past her death. 

There wasn’t much comfort in the knowledge that her own father fought in a war some twenty-five years later. Glimmer washed the trenches away with the tea she drank, brushed away the barbed wire and the loud banging of the drums as they laid the girl to rest. In its place she saw the girl dancing, enjoying her life, returning home, and the letters she’d send home. She’d write of the beautiful countryside; of the people she’d met along the way. 

She would be a natural born leader and in her later years she’d outshine her peers. 

“You’d like it here now, Adora.” Glimmer whispered. Some part of her wished the woman could have seen the world now and not the one she died in, surrounded by the sound of guns, the boom of canons, and the screams that probably would have stained her memories like it had that photograph. All Glimmer wanted to do was to think that none of it stopped this stranger from living. 

Adora drove to the movies, amazed at how far things had come. There would be questions from their kids about what things were like, if things were different so many years ago. But for Adora, it wasn’t that long ago. The drums would still ring and her nostrils sting from the gas she could never shake from her lungs. 

In the sea of crosses Adora’s meant nothing more than a number. But Glimmer saw a face the way she had with her father. Someone who didn’t get to grow old with their kids, come home to a sweetheart who may have one day become their lover for life. 

Glimmer set a cup at foot of the stone and poured some tea. “I made this myself. I was going to share it with my Dad, but I think maybe you can have some first. No one’s been with you in so long. I bet you were kind, loving, and brave. The kind of person that my Father would have liked. I truly believe that.” She sighed and broke off a piece of bread, placing half next to the teacup on the ground. 

“Are you cold?” Glimmer murmured absently. She shrugged off her sweater and draped it over the stone. Was it lonely when she’d died? Was she frightened? Glimmer imagined Adora was a hero to the end, braving it all with a quick lopsided smirk and a yell before she was off, the clouds of gunpowder hiding her until the moment the drums began to beat, the fife playing an old battle hymn. 

Maybe someone sang, the band growing louder as the marching boots stomped on the ground, a flag draped, and salutes thrown as they had for hundreds before hers and many more after. The air was warm today though. A clear blue sky overhead. She believed in her heart that it all ended before Adora felt anything. 

She was the fighter in her family, Glimmer was sure. No one ever doubted her courage for a moment. Was the war as great as Adora remembered? Would it ever be? The things she’d remember would far outweigh the pains of the past. She’d pass them on, lessons to be learned. In return her family would get to have a better day. 

The afternoon gave way to evening as the sun slowly bowed out of sight, a slow tribute to the warriors lying beneath the clear sky they never got to see in their last days. Glimmer laid on her back, pointing out the shapes in the clouds, and soon after, the stars. 

Under the same skies, a young soldier, barely born to the world, but so eager to fight for it. Adora looked up as she scrawled her letter. There was a moment of warmth as she imagined what it would have been like to wake up under this sky, without the backdrop of the thundering of guns. As a low boom sent dirt flying into the trench, blotting the sky, Adora pictured a girl, dark hair that glowed like the stars and eyes that bloomed like lilacs. One day Adora knew she’d meet this girl. 

“Farewell, Adora. Until we meet again.” Glimmer said as she took her sweater back. She paused, picking one of the red poppies from nearby to set on Adora’s grave. She then set off to talk to her father. He wasn’t a stranger anymore.


End file.
